


Play

by weardodo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Age Difference, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Stiles & Peter are both masochists and loving it, Stiles is underaged but knows exactly what he's doing, oblivious Pack-members, remote-control sex-toys, talk of knots, talk of plugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weardodo/pseuds/weardodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times the pack was clueless (and the 1 time it was kind of obvious)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Acheron for this... ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Not beta'd, Eng. = still not my native language (alas..)..
> 
> oh, and sleepdeprivation is ruining my sense of coherency... ^^
> 
> Please be nice *gives puppy-dog eyes*

 

**1\. Fuck**

 

 

The first time it happened they were caught off guard and had to think fast.

 

Well… mainly Stiles had to think fast, Peter just wanted to get five more minutes of ‘beauty sleep’.

 

 

“Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuckerdy shitshit,” Stiles looked at the text-message on his phone again, muttering some more ‘fucks’ before letting his head fall back down on the pillow.

 

“You _are_ aware of the fact that chanting the national anthem of cuss-land doesn’t actually make this little ‘hic-up’ go away, right?” The man still half-asleep beside him mumbled into his pillow.

 

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a mere observation, and Stiles could feel a slight tension of panic rise in his chest.

 

“’Little hic-up’? Oh my god…” he moaned in despair while rubbing his hands across his face. “How can you be so utterly relaxed about this? This is so bad, this is so so… ‘Fuck’.”

 

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I’m going to feel inclined to demonstrate other ways of its usage. Again.”

 

“Oh fuck you,” Stiles barked back slightly frustrated.

 

“That would work too,” Peter hummed contently.

 

It had been a rough night. Actually, every night he spend with Peter could be considered a rough night, but they always made sure they both had enough time to recover from the bruises and scents of pain, come and musk to not be detected by any of the other werewolves.

 

They’d always drive in separate cars, meet up at a motel or hotel-room, and _always_ leave at least a two-day space between a rendezvous and an encounter with one of the pack-members. It all worked out flawlessly. They’d been able to fuck each other senseless for months now and no-one suspected a thing.

 

The only thing Stiles hadn’t accounted for was this. Why the hell did they need _another_ pack-meeting so soon after the last one anyway? Stiles knew his whole body was covered in bruises and rug-burns, and there was no way in hell he’d be able to remove Peter’s scent enough to not at least be detected in some way.

 

This sucked big time, and not in any of the preferred ways either.

 

He knew he could account for the smell of pain and bruising, as both Scott and Isaac had seen him take a few mayor blows during Lacrosse practice. So at least that’s one problem he can cross of the list of ‘fuck’.

 

The scent however, Peter’s scent, that was another story all together. Even with his human-nose he could smell that he reeked of Peter’s come, his fingers poignant with the smell of Peter’s musk. Peter loved his fingers, and Stiles knew just what to do to indulge to the man’s cravings, making the man beg beneath him.

 

“Okay, wait, let me think…”

 

                                                                                             +++

 

The meeting went great– well, apart from the fact that some new threat had entered the Beacon Hills area and Stiles had to start working on a spell to make sure no other drifters would get chopped up into little pieces…

 

But besides thát everything went hunky-dory.

 

As instructed, Peter had touched Stiles in plain sight the moment he got off the elevator, accounting for their mixed scent. And besides some remarks about Peter being more creepy than usual everybody had gone right back to business, no questions asked.

 

It had been a close call, though. Too close for Stiles’ liking.

 

He liked spending time with Peter. They actually connected perfectly kink-wise, and Stiles was definitely not about to give that up due to some prejudiced ‘friends’ ruining their… um… whatever it is they have.

 

It took him only 2 days to find a spell that can mask specific scents, and about two hours to make it his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. Bite Me**

 

 

The second time it happened Stiles actually directed the whole thing.

 

That smell-covering spell was truly a thing made by angels. At least that’s what Stiles said when he first showed its potentials to Peter. Peter, on the other hand, was currently absolutely adamant about the fact that the origins of the spell would somehow lead back to the devil himself.

 

Stiles was a biter, that much had already become _very_ clear. What Peter just hadn’t figured before was how much Stiles wanted those bite-marks to stick.

 

Well, now he knew.

 

+++

 

“Sit still,” Stiles ordered while putting the wolfsbane powder in the deep gapes of the freshly made bite-marks on his shoulders, making Peter hiss in respond.

 

“Is this absolutely necessary?” Peter asked slightly piteously while feeling the marks starting to burn.

 

“Yup,” Stiles almost crooned in delight, while clenching the tip of his tongue between his teeth in concentration. “Well… unless you want me to tell everybody, including my dad, that you bad-touched me and hurt me without my consent… ?”

 

“You, my dear boy, are truly one evil little shit,” Peter stated with nothing but fondness.

 

“Oh, shut up, you love it,” the boy retorted while observing his work with a satisfied little grin.

 

And Stiles was right. He secretly loved the fact that he had the privilege of seeing  this side, a side of Stiles nobody knew about, not even Scott. A part of Stiles reserved especially for him.  

 

People would probably never believe it if he’d tell them, but Stiles had actually been the one to make the first move. And there had been absolutely _nothing_ subtle about it.

 

Peter had just been sitting on the couch in the loft, watching everybody clear out to run in the woods – or something… he would be lying if he said he actually cared where they were going at the time – when something hard got thrown into his lap. “Meet me there in an hour and do yourself a favor: don’t be late,” Stiles had said while already stepping into the elevator, not even waiting for a response. Looking at the room-key of a cheap highway-motel, Peter had let out a surprised yet impressed little huff.

 

The ‘being impressed’ part evaporated fairly quickly when he got to meet the real Stiles.

 

The boy actually seemed to relish in the fact that he could make Peter squirm, and Peter had to admit he kind of relished in the fact that he could make Stiles relish like that.

 

+++

 

Sitting on the spiral-staircase, pretending to listen to Derek going over the recent turn of events, he couldn’t help but keep touching the covered marks on his shoulders. It hurt like hell, and nobody had a clue. Nobody except for him and Stiles.

 

The scent-masking spell made the wolfsbane and his pain undetectable to a werewolves keen senses, but masking a scent didn’t make the scents origin magically disappear. Oh no, the marks were still definitely there, Peter could vouch for that fact himself.

 

Stiles had taken a seat on the other side of the loft opposite Peter, making sure he would be able to watch his every movement, watch how he had to clench his jaws every time his own fingers caressed the open wounds.

 

It was their little secret, their little game, and it didn’t take long before Peter could smell his own arousal coming off him in waves. Apparently so could Derek as he stopped mid-sentence and looked up at Peter while cocking an eyebrow.

 

Peter just shrugged in response, the movement causing a sudden sharp sting, making him flinch again.

 

Nobody could explain what exactly had provoked Stiles’ sudden fit of uncontrollable laughter that day…

 

Nobody except Peter.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know...

**3\. SexThing**

 

 

The third time was all Peter, and Stiles nearly lost his mind.

 

 

Peter asked him to cover his scent.

 

Not just a specific scent, no, the whole shebang. Peter didn’t give him any further explanation, and Stiles knew that asking would only turn out to be in vain.

 

He also knew it probably wasn’t the most morally amenable thing to do – what with Peter being a sociopathic murderous werewolf and all – but he thought ‘fuck it’ and started chanting the spell.

 

… which he started to regret only a few hours later when he received that first text-message while at school.

 

+++

**SocioPete: _Having fun with Ms. Blake?_**

****

**Little Shit:**     **_Really? You memorized my class-schedule?? *cough* pathetic *cough*_**

****

**SocioPete: _No._**

**Little Shit: _OMG! ARE YOU ACTUALLY CREEPING AROUND MY SCHOOL R/NOW?!1_**

****

**SocioPete: _Maybe..._**

 

 

He couldn’t send another text as Ms. Blake had started to look a bit suspicious, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam around for the rest of the day, in search of Peter.

 

_That asshole, he probably wasn’t even near the school-premises!_

 

Just to be sure, he excused himself during Harris’ class and went into the bathroom to jerk off, making sure to squirt his come all over the tiled-wall. After all, two can certainly play that game, and Stiles was a pro.

 

**Little Shit: _Left u a little pressie. xo_**

****

During lunch, he realized that apparently Peter actually _wàs_ at the school after all… and apparently Peter also knew how to play that game really _really_ well…

 

**SocioPete _:  [image]_**

 

Looking at the picture of Peter’s tongue lapping bathroom-tiles, Stiles nearly choked on his milk.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked with genuine concern while the rest of the pack just frowned.

 

“ _Oh my GOD_ , no, yeah, fine, more than fine, ab-so-lute-ly fine, so gigantically fine that if fine was a statue it’d be plated in gold…  No sweat, all fine.”  He wiped the milk-residue of his lips and quickly peeked at the picture again.

 

 

+++

 

 

 Scott had wanted to do a few more rounds of blocking, so they stayed for a bit after practice…

 

Before entering the changing-room, Stiles received another message.

 

**SocioPete: _Hm… seems like I’m missing something?_**

****

Frowning at the message, Stiles opened his locker and immediately slammed it closed as soon as he saw its contents.

 

“Dude, seriously, are you okay? You’ve been kinda acting out of it all day…”

 

“No, no, yes! I’m fine man, seriously! I’m just having one of those inward lack-of-sleep brain-mush days, sorry..”

 

“Okay. If you’re sure you’re okay…. Don’t be sorry bro! You know I love you no matter what, right.” Scott gave him his usual goofy lopsided smile while holding his arms out for a hug, which Stiles immediately surrendered to.

 

Thinking about the clothes-hanger containing all of Peter’s clothes, he quickly send out another message.

 

**Little Shit: _srsly, don’t have time for this you ass!_**

 

 

**SocioPete: _Don’t worry, I’m sure I can think of something to keep myself occupied._**

 

Suddenly Scott cringed his nose and looked around, stopping as his eyes fell on the bathroom-stall.

 

“Dude! I think someone’s getting off in there…” he noted incredulously while looking somewhat disgusted. “I mean, I can’t smell it, which is kinda weird,  but it sure does sound like it.”

 

“Oh my god…” Stiles whimpered as he repeatedly let his head bang against his locker. “I hate you,” he mumbled, knowing damn well that Peter would be able to hear him.

 

Of course, Scott also heard him and started to pout.

 

“Not you, I – just – nevermind, not you okay,” he assured while giving his best-friend a smile and a pat on the shoulder in reassurance.

 

Walking behind Scott out of the changing-room, he stopped for a few seconds, making sure Scott would be out of ears-reach.

 

“I truly hate you,” he whispered to the seemingly empty room, before closing the door behind him.

 

**SocioPete: _I smell someone’s pants burning._**

****

**Little Shit: _must be the remainder of some ashes still stuck up your nose…_**

****

**SocioPeter: _Ouch._**

****

**Little Shit: _x_**

 

 

+++

 

 

**SocioPete: _I just fingered myself thoroughly thinking about you, and my hand is still covered in come._**

 

 

Before Stiles even had a chance to let those words sink in, the elevator doors  opened and Peter casually walked into the loft.

 

While Derek started to talk serious business and Peter started to ‘casually’ lick his fingers throughout, Stiles was absolutely sure he just chipped a tooth ánd broke his brain…

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...about the whiskey...I asked Ian what his fav. whiskey was a little while back, and he said it was Maker's Mark, so ;)

 

**4\. Mind You**

 

 

The fourth time was definitely payback, and Peter was impressed.

 

 

_-  I’m wearing that new plug you bought me._

 

Peter spits his mouthful of Maker’s Mark across the table, making the whole room go quiet, heads turning towards him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, going for casual but probably failing miserably.

 

Looking at the questionable expressions and raised eyebrows, he just waves a courteous little wave accompanied with a little nod.

 

“Please, do continue...” 

 

_-  Oh trust me, I will…_

 

 

Well, at least now he knows why Stiles has been gloating since he walked into the loft.

 

 

+++

_-  You know that little surprise I told you about… Well ‘surprise’, I found a thought-invasion spell when I was looking for that protection-spell for those drifters. Fun huh!_

 

Peter could see the boy grinning widely while pretending to be focused on Derek explaining when and how they’re going to intercept the perpetrator that’s been using certain body-parts to help open some small hell-gate (or something).

 

 

_-  I want you to throw me on the bed with my stomach down so that my body is fully flush against the mattress, and then without curving my hips up  I want you to straddle my legs from behind, remove the plug and replace it with your cock. I want you to fuck me into the mattress hard, so hard that my own leaking cock will be rubbed raw underneath me and I can’t help but drool as my mouth is pushed open and I can’t close it due to the force. Just you, fully covering my body with your own, maybe even placing one arm around my neck, almost strangling me while you whisper filthy things into my ear, licking the sweat and tears from my cheeks. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, take control like that, making me whimper while you take me hard like that?_

 

Peter had to cross his legs to hide his already hardening cock, earning another disappointed glare and eye-roll from his nephew. Getting hard during talks about horrible murders and maimings in a room full of teenagers. Yes, that’ll definitely help him get rid of that ‘Creepy Uncle Peter’ stamp. Thanks ever so much Stiles…   

 

_\- Oh, and by the way, that new plug is just divine. No, seriously, ‘heaven’. That little extra curve really hits the spot just right, mm…_

 

He watched how Stiles shuffled in his seat a little bit, letting his eyes roll in ecstasy while licking his lips seductively. _That little shit._

 

_\- I feel so open right now, so ready. I’m so full and yet so empty. God I need you to fill me up so bad, I need you inside me ASAP! Can’t we get out of here? Aren’t you supposed to be some master-manipulator, can’t you think of something?_

Taking the tumbler to his mouth for another sip he shakes his head casually, grinning into the glass. If Stiles wants to play, well, Peter can play.

 

_\- You are so mean, so so mean! I’ll let you lick your come out of my open hole after you’re done, and then I’ll lick it right out of your mouth while I lower myself onto your cock and start riding myself on you. I’ll still be all raw inside and I’ll definitely make the appropriate noises to let you know how much it hurts, but it’ll feel so good. God I love your werewolf stamina! Did I ever tell you how much I love your werewolf stamina? How much I love it that you can fuck me raw and are up for another round before my hole even has a chance to close up?_

 

As Derek started to talk about taking shifts, using a map to pinpoint the specific spots of the Hale-property he wants to have covered, Peter feels his erection starting to strain against the fabric of his overly tight jeans.

 

He prayed to god this meeting would be over and done with soon, because there is only so much pressure in that specific area that a man can take.

 

And he was not about to let Stiles win. He was absolutely adamant not to let that little shit win. It was now definitely a matter of pride, about showing that kid exactly who’s the boss.

 

He was putting his foot down!

 

_\- I’ll let you knot me…_

 

“Stiles and I will take the first shift!” He jumped to his feet dragging Stiles with him on the way out.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put in Erica and I mention Boyd, bc I love Erica and I choose to ignore both their deaths ^^

 

**5\. Push the Button**

 

The fifth time was mutual torture, but _oh_ it felt good.

 

 

Looking at the small package waiting on his doorstep, he didn’t have to read the card to know who it’s from. After all, there’s only one person who would leave him something – and unless you’d count death-glares and looks of disapproval as ‘leaving something’ it sure as hell wasn’t his dear nephew.

 

He picked up the little box and walked back into the kitchen to poor himself another coffee before sitting down to read the card.

 

 

**_Hey Babe!_ **

****

**_Thought this could be fun for tomorrow’s meeting  :)_ **

****

**_Don’t worry, I am nothing if not fair (shut up, I can hear you snorting!)…_ **

****

**_The remote doesn’t belong to this particular thing, it belongs to what I’ll be wearing._ **

****

**_I’ll give you a clue: mine doesn’t go near my cock ;)_ **

****

**_x S_ **

****

 

He opened the package and removed the little device with curiosity. It looked like a normal cock-ring, but it had this small box attached to it, seemingly some kind of receiver. Stiles hadn’t put it in the original box of course, so he could only guess what it would do when someone pressed its remote.

 

Well, if Stiles will be wearing something up his ass and trusting him with the remote to said device, who was he to deny the boy some reciprocity? Who was he to deny Stiles anything for that matter?

 

He picked up the remote and looked at the ring again.

 

Plus he would be lying if he said he wasn’t dead-curious about the workings of his little present.

 

Well, he’d find out soon enough.

 

 

+++

 

 

“Jesus Fuck!” Peter spews as he feels the sudden jolt of electricity running through his dick. Well, now he knows what the ring does, he muses as he tries really hard to refrain from rubbing his crotch.

 

“So nice of you to join in on our little talk,” Derek glares at him while his words literally ooze sarcasm. “Your contribution truly means a lot.”

 

“Aaaww, does the little zombie-wolf feel all icky-bad about another random stranger being chopped into itty-bitty pieces?” Erica coos as she walks towards him and actually dares to pinch his cheek.

 

Grabbing her wrist with speed and force he drags her forward so that their faces are only inches apart before he starts to caress the back of her hand with his other hand.

 

“Does the little wolf-princes want to know how it feels to have all her _pwetty_ manicured nails pulled out one by one?” he coos back with a threatening smile before releasing her hand with force.

 

It earns him a death-glare and a overly lip-glossed pout in return as Erica walks back to her seat next to an eye-rolling Boyd while rubbing the back of her hand.

 

He must admit, he admires the girls balls – metaphorically speaking of course. If he’d have to choose anyone from the room to pursue for a threesome, he’d probably go with Erica.

 

Or maybe Isaac… Definitely not Boyd, nor Scott. The thought of having sex or even anything in the vicinity of sexual acts with Scott makes him shiver. He’d probably rather die. _Again_.

 

His nephew would be out of the question too. _Although…_

 

He quickly shakes the mental image of Derek getting off at the sight of him fucking Stiles into oblivion from his head. Bad thoughts. Bad _bad_ thoughts!

 

His focus is suddenly pulled towards Stiles, who is still snorting and sniggering into his fist. _That little bastard_.

 

 _Two can play that game._ Peter reaches down his pocket and let his fingers work the button of the remote.

 

 

+++

 

 

“Oh my – _God_ ,” Stiles practically moans, earning a few raised eyebrows in return.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked with concern while Derek just stands there with his arms crossed looking utterly annoyed at being interrupted again.

 

“Yup, probably just ate something bad, no biggie, everything a-okay.” He patted his stomach to amplify his words. He knows Scott will buy it, he just hopes the rest of the pack will also buy his explanation for suddenly moaning like a cheap-whore.

 

Apparently they do.

 

It truly amazes him how oblivious they all are, even with their heightened senses.

 

Is the thought of Stiles and Peter together truly so far out of the vicinity of possibilities that their minds just never go there?

 

Peter and him keep pushing the buttons on unexpected moments, making each-other squirm throughout the meeting, making each-other crave for one-another just a little more every time.

 

He only had to pretend to check his phone a few times after Scott noticed some buzzing sound coming from his pants.

 

It had been pure playing with fire, Stiles knew as much, but he couldn’t care less. The sex they had afterwards definitely made it all worthwhile.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having one of those sappy happy fly-over-the-skittles-rainbow-together-while-riding-a-pink-sparkly-unicorn days... so *sorry* ^^
> 
> Oh, and I'm going to promote this perfect (PERFECT!) Peter/Stiles vid, because the maker used a song with THE MOST PERFECT LYRICS! 
> 
> SO GO AND WATCH THIS VID R/NOW! 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtpYCclyK-g
> 
> (...and then maybe afterwards read the ending of my fic? ;))

 

**+1. Oops**

 

 

Stiles was away on a two week fishing-trip with his father, and after a week and a half Peter started to realize he actually really misses the kid. Like really _really_ bad.

 

He misses their banter, their mutual teasing.

 

He misses the way Stiles can somehow always see right through him, how well Stiles knows him. And how well Peter knows him in return.

 

He misses the way their arguments are nothing more than foreplay, how their seemingly hurtful words are always filled with fondness.

 

He misses Stiles to such a degree that he actually started to feel physically sick.

 

He wondered when exactly they crossed that line from being just fuck-buddies to whatever it was they were right now.

 

They’d been playing games for months now, but somehow it didn’t really feel like playing anymore. Well, of course it would always feel like playing, he doubted that he and Stiles would even get tired of playing their mutual games.

 

 It just didn’t feel like that what they meant to each other was just ‘playing’ anymore.

 

They were compatible. They felt ‘right’.

 

He pulled out his phone and started typing a message.

 

 

+++

 

 

Even though he really loves spending quality time with his dad like this, he can’t help but feel a little home-sick.

 

He misses Peter.

 

No matter what other people – especially the pack and his dad – would think about them being together, it just felt right. They complement each other in ways he never even thought possible.

 

And it was not just the sex. It was everything.

 

His dad had just received a call from the station, apparently something important was going down and they had to cut their trip short. Stiles almost couldn’t help letting out an audible ‘yes!’ and a visible fist-pump, but he managed. After all, he didn’t want his dad to think that he didn’t like going on these type of bonding-trips with him.

 

He decided to not let anyone know he was coming back early, opting for the element of surprise, and just as he was reading the group-message Derek had put out about a pack-meeting, he received another message.

 

**SocioPete _:   Would you like to be mine, ‘officially’ I mean? Miss your filthy mouth. x_**

 

 

+++

 

 

He walked into the loft, seeing the looks of surprise on everybody’s faces as they hadn’t expected him to be home yet. Although he almost felt bad for nearly ignoring them all, he absentmindedly let his eyes scan the room anyway, looking for Peter.

 

That’s when he saw the man he was looking for descending the spiral-staircase, clearly confused.

 

“Stiles?”

 

God he looked so good, with his white body-hugging shirt accentuating his body in all the right places, and that stupidly gorgeous face that tastes just as good as it looks.

 

The moment their eyes locked, Stiles just couldn’t contain himself anymore and he started to practically run towards Peter, literally jumping the man who caught him from mid-air with ease. Stiles just wrapped himself fully around him, clinging to the man as if his life depended on it.

 

“Yes!” He practically shouted while repeatedly plunging his mouth onto the man’s lips. “Yes yes yes yes yes yes. Yes, you asshole, you idiot, YES!”

 

“Yeah?” Peter smiled clearly not being able to hide his joy at the boy’s answer.

 

“Yes,” Stiles said once more while burying his face in the man’s neck. _God he’d missed Peter’s scent._

Apparently Peter had also missed his scent, because the man almost sniffed a hickey into his neck.

 

“Mine,” the man whispered into his neck.

 

“Yours,” Stiles agreed while giving the man a little lick over his pulse-point.

 

It was then that he raised his head and noticed everybody in the room staring at them – which was kind of unsurprising, seeing as nobody even knew he and Peter had been fucking around.

 

“Oops…”

 

 

+++

 

 

“Dude!?!” Scott was the first to react, and if his jaw hadn’t been crooked to begin with, it definitely looked like it was hanging off its hinges on one side right now.

 

Allison just let out a little ‘aaww’ which apparently even surprised herself as she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.

 

Isaac had covered his eyes with both his hands yelping something about ‘melting eyes’ and ‘being traumatized for life’.

 

Erica just muttered a ‘damn’ while she took a bill from her cleavage and handed Boyd a twenty. Boyd took the money with a barely noticeable self-satisfied smirk, getting a few ‘wtf’-looks in return.

 

Derek looked completely stunned, probably not able to form any coherent words for a while.

 

“Well, that certainly could’ve gone a lot worse,” Stiles whispered in Peter’s ear, earning a snort in response.

 

Slowly letting himself slide from the man’s hold, he brushed some invisible dust from his clothes and turned fully to the other people in the room.

 

“Well, um…,” he said while grabbing a hold on Peter’s hand, lacing their fingers together for the world to see. “ ‘Surprise!’ ”

 

 

                                          

 

 

                                                                                        – FIN –

 

**Author's Note:**

> NB. Oh, and Stiles is still underaged (at least, in USA-terms), and Peter is still about 36-38 (whtvr), because I fully believe in the power of age-difference-kinks (or 'daddy-kinks', however you want to call it)... ^^
> 
> -x-


End file.
